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#weight gain story
gainingguys · 2 months
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He keeps complaining how hard it is to get a match on tinder cause it used to be so easy and he doesn’t know what changed 😫
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trans-gainerism · 3 months
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As hot as immobility is, I love the idea of waddling so much.
Being so large that my gut dominates my stance, my world revolves around it now in more ways than one. It’s as if it has its own gravitational pull, jutting out and always entering a room before me - leading the way and guiding me; So big I can always see it, unable to ignore it - so gargantuan even when it’s empty.
The soft, doughy flab that cushions my body quakes and jiggles with every movement - any touch sending waves across my expanse.
The way gravity pulls at my belly, reminding me how heavy it is as it sways between my legs; I try and heft each tree-trunk legs one in front the other, fighting against the fleshy apron that almost reaches my knees.
I’d have to sit down after a pitiful few minutes of huffing through my slow steps, resting on a creaking chair as I shove a snack in my mouth, claiming I ‘need the energy’.
I’d be a public spectacle, crowds parting for me as they wouldn’t want to be trampled by a wobbling whale.
Immobility is hot, but I love the struggle of moving under the weight I’ve burdened myself with.
Make me waddle. 😍
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bigcutiebonnie · 26 days
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One of my my favourite places is the buffet. I love waddling in wearing tight clothes & then completely gorging myself on as much food as possible!
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richiehugs · 2 months
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Fallen angel - part 1
Angel was a chubby child. As teenagehood hit him, however, he got into wrestling and weight-lifting. He grew up to be a tall, handsome, and - more importantly - shredded young adult. As he grew taller and stronger, he thought he should move up a weight class or two - and so the bulk began.
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In just a couple of months, he started losing his rock hard abs, which he achieved by countless hours at the gym and a strict diet. But he knew he was ought to be more. It was a just a bulk. How hard could it be to lose the fat again?
As the weight piled on, he got suggested to use his new power at another kind of wrestling - sumo. Why not? He was already at the end of his bulk, it was only logical to end the story with a gold medal. So he participated at the next championship.
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He was just heavy enough for heavyweight class. Although he won his first two matches against opponents 30-40 kilos heavier than him, he didn't make it to the finals. At least he tried this sumo sport out.
He would never compete again in sumo, but he kept his gym addiction and wrestling hobby the next years on. The bulk, however, never seemed to go away.
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He got fat. He was tall, over 190 cm, so the 120 kg weight he was carrying was barely visible. He was incredibly muscular, too, so a little fat couldn't hurt.
He went from one relationship to another, until he finally met Ana. It was love at first sight. Ana, though a short woman, she never cared much about a couple extra pounds on a man, she even found it attractive. Angel was big, strong, the perfect father figure.
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Angel was happy he had a supportive girlfriend, who was also a great chef. He noticed soon that his XL shirts started to get snug, but he was still wrestling, so the weight was under control. The weight was also great for cuddles in bed, so it was rather a win-win.
But then the pandemic happened.
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During the Summer of 2020, Angel has gained a significant amount of weight. It wasn't a small bulk anymore. He couldn't find excuses, such as "going to the gym", "working hard", "it will go away" - he got obese. As gyms closed and he was stuck at home, his appetite didn't go away, only grew. With every takeaway his figure rounded out more and more.
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At the end of the year, he looked like he ate his teenage self. A thick sphere of soft, jiggly lard has covered his abs and pecs. His moobs and belly were fighting hard against the fabric of every single shirt of his. He even moved up two sizes - just to almost grow out his 3XLs, too. He was close to 150 kilos - a big milestone in the life of a man.
There was no hiding it anymore. And he was yet to attend a wedding...
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This is part one of the story of Angel.
I won't share his real name or any personal information about him. Please, don't reuse the content anywhere.
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guylikesfatgirls95 · 11 months
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❤️
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kallietell · 5 months
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A Little Extra Room
Justin clearly wants Trixie fatter, and her willpower is far too weak to resist. He takes advantage of it, forcing her to eat more and more while she grows larger and larger.  
“Just two more bites,” Justin murmured, excitement leaching into the borders of his words. “You can do it baby, you're doing so good. Just open up your mouth again…good girl.”
Trixie groaned as she slowly chewed, head thrown back and eyes wrenched tightly shut as both hands rubbed her taut, overfilled gut. She forced a swallow then groaned louder, her bulging stomach rising and falling dramatically as she breathed heavily. Her moans had reached a fever pitch and she whimpered and whined, too full to even speak. “One more,” said Justin in a near whisper, eyes locked onto the groaning, bloated woman. She opened her mouth to protest but burped loudly instead. Giving her gut a couple of weak pats she burped again, only to have Justin gently grab a side roll and give it a few wobbling bounces, forcing a cacophony of burps and moans out of her food smeared lips. 
“Look at you baby, god. Just one more bite,” he repeated breathlessly. “No.” Trixie whined, still making circles on her overfed gut. “No, I can't. I can't, I'm too full.” 
“It’s ok baby,” promised Justin, reassuringly, picking up the fork with the remaining bite of cake. Crumbs were the only remnant of the grocery store sheet cake, and one glance at the scene would make it obvious where it had gone. “No,” protested Trixie weakly as he brought the fork up to her mouth. He grabbed her by the side roll again, shaking and jiggling her aggressively as she groaned again, feeling herself wobble. Justin gave her belly a hard slap and she let out a raucous burp, nearly embarrassed by how loud it was. “Good girl,” he praised gently, rubbing the spot he’d just slapped. “Now you have more room.” He brought the fork to her lips again and she opened her mouth obligingly, moaning slightly as she chewed the last of the sugary sweet confection. 
“Good girl,” said Justin, making no effort to conceal how his words dripped with lust. “That’s my big girl. You’re getting so huge, aren’t you?” Trixie groaned in response, her chubby hands planted firmly on her gut as she whined. “Aren’t you,” Justin repeated, smacking her gut again at its right, rounded top. She burped again then resumed her groaning, too full to even sit up. 
“God, look at you. You look like a beached whale, your blubber is spilling out everywhere.” He gave her fatty belly a pinch and she burped again, unexpectedly this time. “You sound like such a pig,” he teased, both hands finding their way to her overstretched gut. “You look like one too. God you’re so fat.” He gets closer, applying more pressure as he wobbles her gut harder and harder. She moans in protest, burping louder and louder as Justin shook her gut more and more roughly. 
“Look at all this,” he marveled. “Look at how much I can grab. You’ve really let yourself go haven’t you? You’ve lost control.” Trixie moans in response but Justin shakes his head, pushing her further backwards into her couch as he squeezes her plush fat. 
“I said,” he began, kneading her fat as she cried out from the pressure, “you’ve lost control. Haven’t you?” He gives her gut another firm slap. “Haven’t you?” Justin laughs as Trixie nods through her burp. “Come on, use your words piggy,” he instructs. “Have you lost control?” “Yes,” breathed Trixie desperately, both hands again rubbing her globular gut. 
“Yea,” Justin affirmed in a low voice husky with desire. “Little out of control piggy. Stuffed so fat that you can’t even move. Seriously Trixie, look at all this.” He’d begun to wobble her gut slowly again and her entire fattened body shook from the movement, her plump tits bouncing up and down as they nearly escaped the tiny crop top she wore. Her thick arms and plush chubby thighs also jiggled along, the newly swelled fat all over her body shaking as one. 
“You fucking whale,” Justin mummered, barely audibly as he gazed down at her hungrily. “You big fat pig, you bloated fucking pig.” Trixie’s eyes were closed now and she’d resumed her groaning, too full to do much else. “Stay right there, just like that.” He reached for his belt buckle with one hand, the other still glued to Trixie’s swollen gut. “Just like that. I’m gonna take care of you baby.”
The next day, Trixie awoke to the smell of bacon. She sighed. She wasn’t sure exactly how long Justin had been up, but smelling bacon was never a good sign when it came to him, especially after a night like last night. She stretched, rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, then yawned. No matter how much sleep she got after one of Justin’s ‘dinner parties’, she was always still exhausted the next day, swollen and tender from how much food she’d packed in (among other things). Justin was always energetic afterwards, in a great mood, but she would be lethargic for the next week. 
She surprised herself by letting out a burp, then she flushed. Her hand dropped to her stomach and she started, taken aback by how far her hand sunk into her own plushness. Her gut bulged out further than it ever had when she was stuffed, but instead of firm and taut her rounded belly bounced and wobbled at just a touch. Oh god, she thought, sinking her fingers into her fat as she investigated her newly plumped body. How much damage did he do last night, she wondered absentmindedly as she played with her wobbling rolls. How many calories was that cake?
She swung her feet over the side of the bed and stood up with effort, cringing as she noted how long it took her fleshy body to stop jiggling at the movement. She was completely naked, the previous evening's clothes tossed somewhere around the living room, and each step she took emphasized her weight. The swell of her belly shook and bounced as she plodded to the bathroom, and her ass wobbled cumbersomely behind her, nearly uncontrollable. She looked at herself in the mirror, pausing a beat before her hands fell to her gut for a second time. Things were really getting out of hand. She stared back at the fattened version of herself in the mirror, gripping her fat in disbelief. 
Her face had swollen to a moon shape and her chubby cheeks had exploded with fat, squeezing her eyes into a smaller shape that peered out from a face framed by double chins. Her neck had nearly disappeared in a ring of fat and wobbled when she shook her head or chewed. She was unrecognizable, a fact that had been confirmed when she ran into an old friend from college who’d struggled to believe that the bloated tub in front of her was the once thin Trixie. Her body had fared no better, and she sported thick swollen arms hanging with fat, pudgy, inflated tits that sagged and bulged out of her bras, and most prominently, a porky, tubby beer gut that refused to succumb to gravity. The more she put on the more it bulged forward, and she was beginning to have a hard time buckling her seatbelt when Justin drove her to get more fast food. 
He’d grown rock hard the first time he saw her struggle with that, speeding home to shove burgers down her throat until she was ready to pop while he moaned about how sexy she was. She couldn’t contain her gut in any of her clothes anymore, instead allowing it to hang out of the bottom in a way that drove Justin wild, enticing him to slap the exposed flesh and make it jiggle. 
She sighs again, lifting her gut with two hands before releasing it with a plop. She felt it bounce, her entire middle shaking rhythmically. She was getting huge. Everything Justin was saying was right. Just the other day she’d burst out of her shorts while he fed her, the only time he’d ever ended a feeding prematurely to fuck her right then and there. She’d still been required to finish her food afterwards though, and Justin had been so gentle as he shoved in bite after bite, feeding her well into the morning. Her capacity was increasing, and even though she wanted to try and conceal it from him for her own sake, Justin knew. He’d been pushing her to her limits more and more later, and it was beginning to show. She was exploding. Every time Justin fed her she woke up feeling, and looking, much larger. It had to be her imagination, she couldn’t put on that much weight in one night, but the bloat never disappeared, swelling more and more with each greasy session. 
She turned around, inspecting her widened, wobbling ass. This was the only reason she’d agreed to try this in the first place, she’d always wanted to be thick, and her wish had been more than granted. Her enormous, shelf ass wobbled dramatically whenever she walked, her thick thighs rubbing as she forced them past one another. Justin was obsessed, constantly smacking it sharply just to watch it ripple. Trixie took a step back. She could barely take herself in the mirror anymore, she was getting too wide. She pinched her belly, then sighed once more. Breakfast time. 
She waddled to her closet to grab a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, wondering what Justin had prepared today as she turned sideways to slide her way into the narrow closet door. It had always been a tight squeeze, even when she was a size 4, but now she could barely work her way inside. She sucked in, pushing in her belly with her hands for extra room, then forced her way through the doors narrow frame sideways. The first time Justin had seen that little maneuver he’d taken her right there in the closet, not even bothering to grab a few boxes of Oreos to stuff her with first. 
She grabbed a pair of XXL shorts that had grown one ‘X’ too small and stepped into them, her bulging round gut acting as an obstacle as always. She got the pants over her thighs after some resistance, then sucked in with all her might and yanked the waistband over her lower belly. The fabric creaked but stayed, and Trixie gently let out her belly in relief, trying not to dwell on how large its natural shape expanded as it swelled forward. Pants on, she turned to the problem of a shirt. Her belly refused to hang, instead protruding further and further outwards, which meant no shirt could be yanked down to cover its swell. She settled for T-shirt’s that wore more like crop tops nowadays, and let her plump, tubby gut round out unencumbered. She pulls down the shirt anyways, watching as it sprang back up immediately, then waddled out of the closet. Despite herself, she was hungry.
When she reached the kitchen Justin greeted her cheerily without turning, still focused on the mountain of pancakes he’d been constructing while she slept. “How’d you sleep?” he asked as she shuffled towards the kitchen chair. “Fine,” she replies lightly, dropping into the armless chair heavily as it creaked to make its protests known. 
“You were so fucking sexy last night,” Justin reminisced wistfully. “So fucking sexy, he begins, turning to her. I…” he pauses as he catches sight of her, his breath hitching in his throat. 
“What’s wrong?” Trixie asks with sincerity, alarmed by the expression in his face. 
“You…look huge,” marveled Justin in awe. 
“Justin…” Trixie started, attempting to assuage him, but Justin couldn’t be deterred. “God, you look like you put on 20 pounds just last night, I’ve never seen you look so…fat.” He dropped the spatula and took a few steps towards her, the pancake browning on the stove forgotten. 
“Stand up.” He instructed, and Trixie did as she was told, knowing it would be easier than letting him convince her. He poked her belly gently, pressing his finger deep into the swells of fat on her side rolls, then grabbed the lowest one firmly and gave her belly a series of hard wobbles. “What have you done to yourself?” he whispered, clearly growing more and more excited as he fondled her gut. “You're bursting out of those clothes,” he gloated with a grin, smacking the overtaxed shorts that her belly and ass were stretching paper thin. “I always am,” Trixie replied with an eye roll. 
“Not like this,” murmured Justin in a near whisper. “You’re getting so fat.” 
He grabbed her belly with both hands and pulled her near, Trixie feeling against her upper stomach just how excited he was by the way her shirt was fitting. “You’re getting so fucking fat,” he repeated, shaking her more aggressively now. “You’re so fucking fat. God, just look at yourself.” He smacks her gut, admiring the syncopation of its jiggles. “Look at all this. Look at yourself.”
By the time he’d started talking like this, it was already too late. He was going to feed her again, another little dinner party, except this one was at 10 in the morning. Justin usually only started his lustful, excessive sessions at night, but he had been overfeeding her during the day more and more often recently. 
“Sit down,” he says with a point, and Trixie obliges soundlessly, knowing resistance was futile. Justin brings over a platter laden with bacon, two plates stacked high with pancakes, a plate of hash browns, a plate of sausage, and a gallon of orange juice. 
“Justin,” she warned, her hands already resting on her stomach as if feeling its upcoming pangs of fullness. “Justin, I’m really not hungry.”
“Even better,” he replies casually, pouring half a bottle of syrup on the first stack of fluffy, golden brown discs. “Eat up.” 
He hands her a fork and Trixie surveys the scene miserably, feeling her empty gut press into the table despite how far back she’s scooted her chair. 
“You know you want it, fatty,” came Justin's voice floating into her ear. “You need it, don’t you?” He asked coyly, watching the expression on her face shift near imperceptibly as he pushed the plate closer to her. “Go ahead big girl. I know you can barely stop yourself.” 
The mouth watering aroma became too much and Trixie relented, first shoving two pieces of bacon into her mouth greedily before also cramming in a massive bite of pancakes, the syrup dripping from her lips. 
“Fuck Trixie,” Justin breathed. She hunkered down and began to eat with abandon, shirking her fork in favor of fingers quickly becoming sticky with syrup. She crammed bacon into her mouth by the threes, folding her pancakes so she could get the whole circle in her mouth at once. She paused, burped loudly, then dove back in, temporarily foregoing her bacon to scarf down the entire plates of hash browns and sausages in just a few moments. 
“Keep going baby,” Justin cooed, beginning to trace gentle circles across her rapidly bloating gut. “Don’t stop.”
Trixie couldn’t stop if she’d wanted to, and despite her earlier complaints in the mirror she ate like a woman possessed, greasy and sticky hands easing burps out of her overstuffed gut while her breathing got heavier and heavier. She completed the first stack of pancakes and was now working on the second, the reminder of the syrup bottle upended over them. Her face was becoming a mess and her fatty chins were slick with syrup and bacon grease. She grabbed two more syrupy pancakes, folded them, and attempted to shove both in her mouth, her cheeks bulging and rippling as she tried to chew while forcing even more into her greedy face. 
Another few handfuls of bacon and the once towering platter was beginning to run low, the remainder of the greasy meat sticky with the syrup her hands were coated in. She doubled down, alternating between massive bites of pancake and savory swallows of bacon, her gut swelling impossibly round and forcing her chair even further back from the table. Justin was watching in awe, face contorting into an lust drunk expression that bordered on the painful as his jeans grew tighter and tighter like Trixie’s gut. His hands were back on her body now, and she felt her belly being jiggled, wobbled, and shaken as she packed in bite after bite, feeling the swell and breathing deeper as her fat gut stretched tighter and tighter. 
Just as she reached for the last pancake, slowing down a bit as the calories began to catch up to her, Justin muttered “Fuck,” and jumped out of his seat, heading towards the oven. She groaned then burped at the effort of turning her head, barely able to see what the urgency was. 
Justin had taken the final, scorched pancake off of the stove and was now opening the oven to a decadent, sickeningly sweet smell to which Trixie was well accustomed. His famous cinnamon rolls, famous not only for their incredible taste, but also for the unbelievable amount Trixie can put away. She whimpers at the smell of the rolls then shoves the last pancake into her mouth anyway, syrup dripping down her chin. Justin sets them to cool then crosses the kitchen back to her, hands already extended to grip her impossibly fattened gut. 
“You’re such a good girl,” he encouraged, beginning to rub slow circles on her distended gut. “You were hungry, weren’t you?” Trixie ignores him, continuing to moan, and he slaps her gut forcefully for the infraction. Trixies groaned then let loose an enormous burp, face flushing.
“I asked you if you were hungry Trixie,”said Justin once more, a wild look dancing behind his eyes. “Yes,” Trixie panted in between heavy breaths, attempting to lean back in the too small chair to relieve some pressure from her growing gut. 
“You’re still hungry, aren’t you?” Justin informed her, no hint of a question behind his intonation. 
“Justin no, no,” Trixie begged, squirming as she attempted to shift herself forward again. “No, I can't.” 
Justin rubbed her gut lovingly, playfully kneading its rounded top. “Yes you can. You want to.”
“No!” she whined in a near yell. 
Justin smacked her gut for her outburst, forcing a series of deep burps out of her mouth. She groaned as he rubbed her expansive belly, muttering comforting words before smacking her gut again, leaving her wobbling and burping while he went to grab the icing glazed rolls. 
“Now,” He says on his return, setting the pan down on the table. “Are you hungry?” 
Trixie was the picture of gluttony, absolutely beached in the chair by her massive, spherical gut that dwarfed the rest of her tubby body. She leaned her head forward with effort, rubbing her stretched gut fruitlessly. 
“Trixie,” says Justin, taking a firmer grip on the bottom of her porky belly. “I asked you a question. Are you hungry?”
Trixie nodded listlessly and Justin began to shove the still warm rolls into her mouth with abandon, smearing cinnamon sugar and icing all over her face. Her plump lips opened again and again for more, moaning nonstop now as her belly slipped out of shorts and bulged free, her stretch mark covered love handles oozing over the back waistband. Her T-shirt was like a bra, and she noted with horror that even the sleeves were starting to cut into her chubby arms. 
Her belly surged further and further forward, and Justin couldn’t keep his left hand off her while his right hand forced the rolls into her face faster and faster. “You’re so fucking fat,” he was saying, kneading the still pliable rolls as he filled her.”You're getting so fat.” The pan was nearing its end now, and Justin fed her even faster, cramming her cheeks until they were about to pop. She swallowed the massive bites with effort, her mind completely empty as Justin forced her further and further over her limit. 
Trixie swallowed the last bite then burped loudly, gripping her gut with both hands. 
“Look at you,” Justin choked out after a moment, his voice betraying his desire. “You’re such a fucking pig. Look at what you’ve done to yourself.”
Trixie was so full she’d begun to hiccup, and the alternating hiccups and burps made her jiggle slightly as she lay back in the chair, trying to catch her breath. “I *hic* didn't,” she responded laboriously. “You did this to me.” 
Justin didn’t say a word, instead standing silently and reaching both hands toward her. 
“Justin, I can’t get up right now, I can't,” she whined, drawing out the word. “Yes you can,” said Justin calmly. “I’m gonna take you to the bedroom, come back and get the whipped cream, and then you’re gonna show me exactly how you got to be such a fat, greedy piggy.” 
She groaned again and Justin smacked her gut, eliciting her loudest, deepest burp of the day. 
“There,” he said, watching her continue to wobble. “Now you have a little extra room.”
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dthg99 · 27 days
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Been a while since this shirt was loose, how long ago do you think it was??? 😅🫣
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feedee-on-main · 6 months
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me and WHO
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pecanwriter · 8 months
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Big Boy Mode: Activated
Themes: rapid weight gain, humiliation kink, technology-induced weight gain (so like, magic weight gain but for sci fi nerds I guess)
Words: 2947
Part: 1/?
"Hello, sir, would you like to hear about our newest product, the most revolutionary nanotechnology to date?"
Elliott really wasn't one to ever let some marketing lackey torment him with semi-logical babble about something he didn't even want to buy. But he was a technology whore, and just the mere mention of nanotechnology had him nearly salivating at the mouth.
He smiled at the promoter, stepping closer and trying to look at all the flashing screens at once. 
"Introducing SimNano or Simulator Nano. This revolutionary technology is the newest hit in terms of body augmentation and we're making record sales all around the globe."
The promoter pulled something from his pad to one of the screens. 
"The way this works, we inject nanobots into your body and connect their signature to your personalised control panel as well as a wristband, the wristband sold separately." 
He watched as on the screen a scrawny shirtless man selected a holographic projection of his body and added 50% more muscle to the model. He clicked "Active Mode" at the bottom of the screen and for a moment his entire body rippled in an unfamiliar way until he stood there completely buffed out, Captain America style.
Elliott blinked. He looked from the freshly buffed-out man to the promoter.
"How does that work?"
"The nanobots we inject into the client's system are capable of replication and imitation of any human tissue. However, they are only capable of growing, not shrinking, it's not a diet pill as many would hope so." The promoter laughed at his own poor joke.
Elliot chuckled obligingly but the phrase "they are only capable of growing" was bouncing around in his head trying to make him hard. 
"Is there a limit to what they can imitate? For example, if someone was missing a leg…?" He chose his words carefully, hoping the man would fall for his set-up and tell him exactly what he wanted.
The man's gaze flickered down to Elliot's leg and although Elliot had no such thing, he let the man assume he had a prosthetic. It was an unassuming lie, didn't hurt anyone, it was just better than even a sliver of the truth.
"Oh, they're absolutely capable of replicating a leg. As I said, they can imitate any human tissue, muscles, nerves, fat, even bones…"
When he said the f-word Elliot's cock jerked awake and he had to cover his crotch with the shopping bag he was holding.
"And are the changes permanent…?"
"No, that's not how it works, It's imitating and replicating the tissue in Active Mode, but as soon as it's Deactivated everything goes back to normal."
Elliot's cock was throbbing as he fought to maintain perfectly normal eye contact with the promoter.
"And while it's active, does it feel real or is it like a hologram or a model or…"
"Oh no, It feels absolutely real, that's why we are the leading company in…"
He prattled on but Elliot didn't listen, all he could think of was the phrase "it's only capable of growing" as his cock throbbed.
"How much is it?"
It was bloody expensive, as it turned out. Elliott put a sizable dent in the savings he was putting away to get a mortgage on a single-bedroom flat. But somehow, all he felt was excitement, there was no shame or regret to be found anywhere.
After he made his purchases he had to go to their branch store and get injected with nanobots. The syringe wasn't that big and he wondered if it would be enough firepower for what he had in mind. They scanned his body thoroughly to put the model into his pad and wristband and connect the nanobots to it. As a trial, the shopping clerk showed him how to give himself impressive biceps and everyone present at the shop oohed and awed at the result. 
The promoter was right, it felt absolutely real. The rippling Sensation Elliott saw in the video felt only like a slight cold tingling under his skin and then within seconds the impressive biceps appeared.
He deactivated his SimNano, thanked the clerk and left, struggling to walk straight with his dick pressing hard against his trousers.
When he came home he almost immediately tore off his shirt. He brought out the control panel on the band with shaking hands and clicked on the scrawny little model of himself. He moved his finger around, highlighting his midriff and ass. He clicked "expand" and then in the tissue subcategory he clicked "fat" instead of the pre-selected "muscle". You could put the desired amounts in body percentages or in units of measurement. He clicked on lbs, the most precise one, and tapped in 20(9kg). Then after a moment's hesitation, he erased it and clicked 40lb(18kg) instead.
With shaking fingers he clicked "Active Mode" and his skin began to tingle with the cold sensation. Seconds later Elliott was staring down at a round, fat gut and he could feel his boxers strain mercilessly against his expanded ass. 
He put the pad away gently and grabbed the ball of flab at his front. He was never this fat in his life, but it felt real enough, from what he could guess. He lifted the stomach and let it drop, watching it jiggle and wobble. A moan escaped him. He couldn't believe this was happening. 
Before even getting a look in the mirror Elliott fell to the couch, frantically gnawing his flesh with one hand and stroking his cock with the other. He never came this hard in his entire life. 
He finally managed to pull himself up into standing, revelling in how his gut was suddenly in the way and looked in the mirror. 
He laughed, the effect was ridiculous. Although his belly and ass looked fantastic and absolutely realistic, it looked ludicrous on his scrawny body which remained unchanged.
Elliott deactivated the band and reset the model. After a moment’s hesitation, he selected his entire body “Increase by 100% body mass” and selected “fat” in the tissue category. He considered carefully and finally decided to increase his ass and gut separately on top of increasing the fat equally around his entire body. 
Elliott’s finger hovered over the band, but before clicking the Activate button he checked the measurement box again and changed 100% to 200lb. Again, before clicking it, he wavered and finally ended up changing it to 300lb(136kg) with sweaty fingers. Adding 300lb to his meagre 132lb(60kg) would put him at a glorious 432lb(195kg), a fulfilment of a fantasy Elliott had since before he was even consciously aware of it. 
Eliott pressed the Activate button.
He was still standing in front of the mirror and he let out a gasp as the nanobots went to work, making his entire body shiver with the unfamiliar coldness, the feeling much more overwhelming with tasking them to simulate 300lb instead of a measly 40 he attempted at first. 
Elliott watched with intense, nearly blinding fascination as his body rippled slightly and moments later exploded into folds and bulges and rolls, becoming an unrecognisable mountain of flesh. He stared at the enormous gut, too heavy to be completely round as it hung in front of him almost like a massive, engorged flesh apron. His face was unrecognisable, swallowed by an enormous double chin and chubby cheeks, melting into the fat around his neck seamlessly. The man in the mirror couldn’t be him, could he? It was too good to be real… The fat man lifted his arm as Elliott lifted his, only his arm never had an enormous wing of fat hanging off it and jiggling as he moved. When Elliott moved his normal arm it didn’t send his entire massive body into wobbles, but the man in the mirror sure wobbled like an impressive jello dessert. 
Elliott grabbed his gut, an enormous, almost all-encompassing mound of flesh hanging in front of him. He grabbed it, lifted it as much as he could and dropped it. The way the flesh shook and jiggled forced a moan out of him. Already half-hard again, he inched closer to the mirror. Elliott could barely move under the unknown sensation of this immense bulk and he almost stumbled into his mirror, nearly crushing it. Just the half step made his heart race with excursion and his lungs begged for air. 
This SimNano thing was worth every penny, in fact, Elliott thought they were losing money. It was too good to be real. 
He turned off Active Mode, in a few seconds staring back at this familiar skinny self with an impressive hard-on. 
Staring intently, eager to catch every little detail, he pressed Activate again. 
Watching his body explode with fat, filling out with blubber in mere seconds and leaving him unrecognisable was so impossibly erotic that he climaxed just from turning the SimNano off and on again, watching himself gain hundreds of pounds in seconds. 
After he managed to somehow climax three times within the span of an hour he decided it was enough for one day, he was starting to feel light-headed. 
He tapped Deactivate. 
Nothing happened. 
He tapped it again. Still, nothing.
He stared at the band, but it appeared to be frozen. Frantically, he started waddling unsteadily to his backpack where the main SimNano pad was. Walking across the room to his bag while suddenly 300lb heavier was incredibly difficult and equally, if not more, arousing. His giant thighs were rubbing against each other, he could feel he was hitting his enormous apron of a gut with each clumsy step… The enormous behind he’d given himself jiggled with every step and so did his soft, blubbery tits. 
When he finally made it to his back and retrieved his pad Elliott was nearly ready to collapse with how out of breath he was. 
The pad was as frozen as the band was. 
“Fuck.” He whispered, looking into the mirror across the room. He was enormous, there was no way he could leave the house like this and he had a night shift at the bar today. 
It was 5 p.m., and he had work at 8, so technically, he still had time. He could just… Indulge for a while while waiting for the SimNano to unfreeze. 
Elliott laboriously waddled to the bedroom. He had a few pieces of massive clothing he sometimes wore while stuffing it with pillows and pretending he was huge. He pulled on a pair of tracksuit trousers. They could barely encompass his enormous ass. Even the biggest of his secret fetish shirts was snug on him now and his monstrous gut was happily hanging out at the bottom. 
The flat needed tidying up and he also had to cook to have something to eat after his shift when he would undoubtedly be too tired to do anything. 
He began busying himself around the house, every little chore making him hornier than the last one. Everything was a thrill, trying to wipe dust off the higher shelves and feeling how his enormous gut was hanging further and further out of his shirt, trying to wash dishes and finding that he could barely reach into the sink with the enormous mound of blubber in the front of him. When he went to clean the plastic shower door, something that he meant to do all week, he nearly got stuck in the narrow space and instead of trying to find the best angle to free himself he rubbed against the shower wall, making himself cum just with the friction against his fat body. He would’ve jerked himself off if the was any hope of reaching his penis under all that flesh, which there absolutely wasn’t.
With all the chores completed and with food prepped for later, Elliott went to check on the pad. It was still frozen. It was 7.20 pm.
He called in sick and trying not to freak out about it just yet he repositioned the mirror closer to the couch where he planted his enormous ass and began rubbing his flesh. 
There was no need to freak out, he was sure the NanoSim would reset overnight. 
*
Elliott woke up still on the couch and still as enormous as when he drifted off, exhausted by the almost constant sexual tension of the previous day. 
He tapped the band. Frozen. The pad proved to be in a similar state. 
Elliott tried calling the NanoSim Technical Support but they told him that there was nothing they could do remotely because there were health hazards involved, so he would have to come to one of their stores to get it reset. 
Which meant… Going outside as a 432lb man. 
Elliott ate his modest breakfast of a skinny man and wondered how it would look to an outsider, a guy who was nearly half-tone of blubber eating a modest portion of oatmeal. 
Before leaving the house he pulled on a beanie and didn’t shave his unimpressive stubble. There was no way anyone would recognise him, but he still didn’t want to risk it. 
His heart was pounding so hard that it was all he could hear as Elliott stepped out into the hallway. 
Usually, Elliott just took the stairs from the second floor he lived on, but there was no way he was going to take the stairs today, he could barely move with all that unfamiliar weight on him, his waddle almost a caricature of itself. 
There was a lady in the lift and when the doors opened she frantically looked between Elliott and the lift control panel informing all the passengers that the weight limit was 500lb. She was slim, but there was no way she was less than 100lb. 
“You go on” Elliott smiled at her and she pressed the button to close the door almost frantically. 
He wasn’t sure if he actually WAS 432lb or if the nanobots just made it appear so to him, but he wasn’t going to risk it. 
There was an Uber waiting for him, but Elliott had to cancel the ride when it turned out that he couldn’t fit in the car. 
With his dick painfully hard and trapped between mounds of flesh he selected a different ride, making sure it was big enough to accommodate for a massive hog like him. He barely fit and his gut filled his lap completely. The driver was visibly disgusted and Elliott’s already painfully hard dick throbbed under his apron belly. 
Waddling and puffing his way through the shopping centre to the SimNano store was the most humiliating and gratifying experience of his life. Everyone, without exception, stared at the giant man barely waddling his way through the halls, his too-small shirt riding up his enormous gut and his face flushed with the effort of putting all that blubber into motion. 
When he finally made it to the store he was heaving, his breath rasping and his entire body sticky with sweat. 
The only person in the store was the clerk, a teak-skinned man with a mop of black curls and bright, quick eyes. He was very much Elliott’s type and the fact that he had to talk to a handsome guy while his enormous gut hung out of his shirt and he was so out of breath was arousing beyond all reason. 
“Hello, I’m Omar, how can I help you?” 
“Hi, I… uff.. Sorry… I have a problem with my SimNano, the program froze last night and it’s still frozen.” He handed the man his pad, still trying to catch his breath. 
“Let’s see here…” Omar took his pad from him and when he saw the program the SimNano was frozen on he slowly looked back up at Elliott, his lips stretching into a mischievous grin. Elliott felt like his entire face was on fire. Somehow it didn’t dawn on him that the clerk would see the program he was running. If he could, he’d bolt it out of the store in embarrassment, but he couldn’t, not when he was this massive. 
“Let me just do some troubleshooting here.” Omar said, his smirk still on his face as he plugged the device into a PC and started clicking. 
“Alright,” he said a few minutes later. “It looks like I got it, but let me just check…” 
“What…”
Elliott watched with growing terror as Omar proceeded to add another 50lb(22kg) to his program and activating it. Elliott staggered back, feeling his gut hanging marginally lower, the waistband of his tracksuit digging just that much deeper into his blubber. 
“Just to double check, better to be sure.” Omar said, adding another 50 on top of that. 
Elliott had to grab onto the counter as the enormous weight started to threaten to topple him to the ground. He was heaving just from the sheer effort of standing up.
Omar’s cheeky grin was turning downright mischievous. 
“I think it’s working now.” the clerk said, bringing the program down to its original +300lb setting. 
“T-thank you…” Elliott panted, taking his pad back and thanking all the Gods that his gut hid his erection. 
As he was waddling back to the entrance Omar’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Ey, fat boy.” 
That nickname alone nearly made Elliott give an ungainly moan, right there in the middle of the shopping centre.
“Y-yes?” “Give me your number, I write NanoSim codes in my spare time and big improvement to the overall experience. I mean…. Huge improvements.” 
Omar’s grin was pure evil and Elliott was sure his own was no better as he gave the handsome man his number.
This was going to be fun. 
PART 2
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growmydarling · 9 months
Text
your gluttony is changing you. not just physically, with all the rolls and softness and acquired flab; but mentally, you've become greedy, needy. begging for more of my touch. not only do you want to be surrounded by food, but you want me to serve it to you. you're willing to grovel and whine rather than stepping the twenty feet from the couch to the kitchen. i see how your transformation is all encompassing. it makes me smile because i know i'm helping to shape you this way. ❤️‍🔥
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thegainingdesk · 15 days
Text
Two Night Stand
Just as Howard had guessed, the young man was loitering in the changing rooms when he entered. He'd seen the slim man watching him his entire set, changing from treadmill to elliptical to standing bike to keep a clear eyeline to Howard at all times.
Howard wasn't surprised, exactly. He'd found that he attracted more than a fair few men as he'd put on weight these past few years, and the gym was the perfect place to show off his developing figure. He couldn't exactly boast a powerlifter build, per se, but he had enough muscle underneath all the fat that he could show off how much weight he could lift, and enough to keep most of his fat in a firm, round gut at his center with comparatively less flab elsewhere on his body. Coupled with a thick dark beard and a thick pelt of coarse body hair, he often had twinks lining up for the opportunity to call him ‘daddy’; not something he was thrilled about at the grand age of thirty-four, but also not something he was in a rush to correct anyone wanting to fuck him over.
Howard made a show of getting changed and faced out into the changing rooms towards the young man, giving him a clear view of the spectacle. He lifted his shirt up slowly, allowing the hem to drag itself up over the curve of his gut, revealing the dark swirls of hair covering the mound of fat and his deep belly button. Once the shirt slid off his gut and Howard pulled it over his head, he looked over to see the man looking directly at him. He winked and the man hurriedly looked away; Howard made sure to maintain eye-contact, making sure to catch him each time he gave another quick glance. Howard reached down and hefted his gut a few times before reaching down further and giving his package a squeeze; that caught the man's attention alright, and this time he held his gaze, staring intently at Howard's gut.
“Not getting changed yourself then?” Howard called across the changing room.
The young man swallowed hard, before lifting up his shirt to reveal a tight, thin torso, with the faint outline of a six pack and a fine dusting of hair. He was about Howard's height, just slightly shorter than average, but more wiry than Howard had ever been, with prominent ribs and collar bones, and a prominent Adam's apple. Despite his short height, he was so thin he almost looked lanky. He was handsome, Howard thought; dark blond hair, a crooked smile and a nose that looked like it had been broken and not set properly at some point. “Just catching my breath,” the man replied.
Howard smirked and bent to pull down his shorts. He tried to make it sexy, but honestly, these days it was a struggle just to bend down around his gut and his shorts caught on his thick thighs, making him shimmy them down unceremoniously. By the time he stood back up, panting softly, the young man’s long erection was tenting his own shorts obviously.
Howard reached down and adjusted his balls in his boxers, partly for show, partly genuinely for comfort. “Fancy joining me in the showers?” he said casually. “I’m finding I've been getting really sweaty recently.” He felt himself growing hard. He knew he'd lost a few inches to his expanding fat pad, and he'd not been able to see his own cock under his gut for years, but he knew he still boasted an impressive manhood.
“I uhh… okay.” The man's voice came out high-pitched and strained. He coughed and tried again, deeper this time. “Yes, I mean. I'd like that.”
“I'm Howard,” Howard introduced himself as he walked past the man and around the corner to the showers.
“Guy,” the man answered. Howard could hear him follow behind him obediently.
“Nice to meet you Guy,” Howard said, turning on one of the shower heads and pulling his pants off. He handed them to Guy, who held them, dumbstruck for a moment, before lifting them up to his face and sniffing deeply. “You like this gut, Guy?”
Guy nodded, not taking Howard's boxers away from his face. His eyes were trained downwards; Howard knew that from this angle, his gut covered his crotch almost entirely, so he must be staring at his fat.
Howard stepped back into the stream of water, and rivulets began to flow over his tits, round his gut, down his rounded thighs and calves. “Would you like to touch this gut, Guy?”
Guy hurried to throw down Howard's boxers and pull his own shorts and underwear down; he was so hard and the motion so fast that his dick slapped up and hit his abs with a soft thwack. He stepped forward and ran his hands across Howard's love handles, squeezing them and using his fingers to dapple the soft skin and the fat underneath. He slipped his fingers beneath, into the crease above Howard's hips, and leant down to place one of Howard's nipples in his mouth, sucking for a few moments.
He pulled away. “You're so…” he began. He leant back in, kissing Howard's neck, his shoulders, his chin. Each kiss was paired with a small poke from Guy's fingers; Howard realised he was searching for pockets of fat around his body.
“Big?” Howard whispered. “Heavy? Wide? Manly?”
“Fat,” Guy finished. “You're so fat.”
Howard chuckled. “And you like that, do you? You like how fat I am?” Guy nodded. “Why don't you show me how much you like it then?” Howard nodded past his gut, down towards his crotch. Guy looked around nervously. “Now you're nervous?” Howard asked. “Don’t worry, most people rush straight off after the gym at this time. Besides, everyone knows this is the gay hookup gym, no-one would bat an eyelash.”
Guy swallowed hard and Howard licked his lips at the sight of his large Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his wiry neck. He looked around once more, nodded nervously, and sunk to his knees. Howard grew even harder as he felt Guy push his fat pad back to reveal more of his length, something he’d only realised men had started doing since he’d hit twenty stone or so. He shuddered slightly as he felt Guy’s warm mouth envelop his hardness for a few seconds, before pulling back and pushing Howard’s soft underbelly away and readjusting his position, trying to find a way to suck Howard off around all of the fat in the way.
Howard leant his head back and moaned. While Guy seemed to be taken by surprise with the practicalities of sucking off a fat man, he clearly had a few tricks up his sleeve, and enough enthusiasm to make up for it. Within a few minutes he was near climax and began to thrust himself into Guy’s mouth, who made some satisfying grunts of discomfort in response.
Just as Howard began to cum, pumping his load down Guy’s pretty throat, someone walked into the shower and the younger man jumped back so that the rest of Howard's cum sprayed across his chest and dribbled down his chin. Guy flushed red and turned away towards the wall, frantically wiping away the splatters of semen.
“Don't mind me,” Charlton, one of the gym's regulars, said as he stepped under the shower head on the other side of Howard. “I'd join you, but my husband says I've got to stop fucking people at the gym.” He leant around Howard's mass to peer at Guy’s arse. “How do you get all the cute ones Howie?”
Howard moved over to Guy and cupped his arse, bending down to his knees himself. “How about it?” he asked. “Fancy an audience?”
Guy gave a small shake of his head and continued to scrub at himself. Howard stood back up, bracing against his knees and straining as he did so. He stepped away from Guy and began to wash himself, taking the signal that the younger man had lost interest, for now.
“Maybe we could go somewhere?” Guy said quietly after a while. Howard looked over and grinned as Charlton laughed.
“Just like me to ruin the fun!” Charlton said. He waved his dick over at the two of them. “Howie, you've got my number, let me know if you'd like a third later.”
Howard grabbed Guy’s wrist and led him out the shower. He nudged the small pile of their wet shorts and underwear with his toe. “Grab those,” he told Guy. “We can go to my flat, it's not far.”
Guy struggled to keep his hands off Howard on the short drive and in the lift up to Howard's floor. As he unlocked the door, Guy was already pulling Howard’s t-shirt up and undoing his belt for him, kissing his neck as he did so. Howard pulled him through to the bedroom and pushed him towards the bed, and Guy dutifully began stripping.
Howard kicked his trousers off and pulled a condom out of the drawer by his bedside table. “You're going to have to put it on me,” he told Guy. “Awkward with this thing in the way.” He thumped his gut a few times to illustrate his point. “Unless you want to top?”
Guys tongue practically fell out of his mouth at this, and he hurriedly pulled the condom out of the packet. “No, I'm happy to, you know, or whatever.” He sunk down to his knees and stared up at Howard over the crest of his gut. “It's so hot that you can't put this on yourself.”
“I mean I can,” Howard grumbled. “It's just easier to get someone else to do it.” He felt Guy roll the condom over his shaft and smooth out some air bubbles.
“How do you want me?” Guy asked. He turned towards Howard and stood waiting, his hard-on pulsing slightly.
Howard nodded towards the bed. “On the edge. However’s most comfortable for you.”
Guy climbed onto the bed, stretching his thighs wide to present his hole to Howard. Howard squirted some lube onto his fingers and ran them over Guy’s crack, before slipping a couple of fingers in and massaging for a moment or two. Guy arched his back and sighed.
Howard lined himself up with Guy as best he could, and pushed himself forward. His cock missed the mark and instead bounced painfully off of one of his cheeks. Howard winced. “Sorry,” he said. “Difficult to aim with this thing in the way.” He patted his gut.
“God that's hot,” Guy sighed.
“Glad someone thinks so,” Howard grumbled to himself. Maybe he did need to lose a little weight.
“We could try a different position?” Guy suggested. “Cowboy style, maybe, or it might help if we both lie on our sides?”
“No!” Howard snapped. “No, I can, I can do it,” he said, more calmly. He'd be damned if he’d gotten too fat to top someone properly. He fished under his gut and grabbed his equipment, using his hands to guide himself in. He found his mark and slid in slowly, as Guy moaned softly and pushed back against Howard's crotch.
The two men began to rock in sync, building up a rhythm. Howard's gut slapped into Guy's back, the claps ringing like a metronome. The two began to pick up pace, as Guy arched his back and Howard tried to reach around to grab the smaller man's cock; with his gut in the way, he just couldn't reach. Instead, he gripped Guy’s slender shoulders and put his effort into pumping. He could feel the fat on his arse, his tits, his gut shaking and vibrating and his heart fluttered in his chest as he breathed heavily. He pumped harder and gripped his own fat with one hand, inserting one finger deep into his own bellybutton. He thought about how fat he'd gotten, how much fatter he was sure to get, he thought about the man below him and how much smaller he was than him. His breath caught as he came, and he felt the condom fill up around his pole. Shaking, he rolled off of Guy and onto the bed.
“Did you..?” Howard asked.
Guy shook his head. “It's fine,” he said, panting and smiling. He placed a hand on Howard's gut and shook it. “Plenty of time for that later.”
“What does it feel like?” Guy asked afterwards, with his angular torso pressed into Howard’s broad, soft back and one arm draped across him, a hand slowly caressing his gut.
Howard laughed. “Topping? You never done it before?”
Howard felt Guy shake his head from behind. “No, I've- I mean not very often, but I have, you know- No, I mean, you know,” his hand gripped Howard's gut and shook it a little. “What does this feel like? Being fat?”
Howard laughed again. “You like that, do you?” He slapped his gut a few times, enjoying the feeling of his body rippling. “It's a bloody nuisance, I'll tell you that much.”
“Yeah?” Guy prompted. “How?”
“Oh yeah. I mean, you saw earlier, it's getting difficult to fuck guys in some positions without it getting in the way, difficult to put on condoms easily. You even struggled a bit when you were giving me a blowjob, right?” Guy nodded enthusiastically. “It's even getting difficult to piss standing up.” Howard could feel Guy’s cock hardening against his back.
“Really? Because you can't reach it you mean?” Excitement mounted in Guy’s voice.
“Reaching it's easy enough, it's being able to see that's an issue. Can't aim,” Howard explained.
“What else?” Guy urged Howard on.
“Fuck me, loads. Having to fight against my own body to tie my shoes, getting winded climbing the stairs, clothes not fitting right, not being able to join my mates when they play footy, getting the piss taken out of me by everyone who thinks they're a bloody comedian,” Howard said. By this point, Guy was grinding his hard dick against Howard's leg.
“But you love it?” Guy asked, his voice catching.
“Fuck yes,” Howard replied. “There's something about being big, you know?” Guy gave a small whimper in reply. “In basically any situation, at work, with mates, at the gym, I'm always the biggest one there. Sure, a lot of it's fat, but men always respect the big guy, you know? Like it's primal.”
“How much do you weigh?” Guy asked. He moved to straddle Howard, his hand stroking his cock.
“A little over three hundred pounds,” Howard lied. He was close, but had never actually broken the big three-oh-oh. He'd met enough of these chaser types to know that 300 was the magical number though, and was happy to fudge the numbers to make a twink’s fantasy come true.
“Christ,” Guy gasped. “You're over double my weight.” Within thirty seconds, he tensed up and yelled out as thick hot cum sprayed over Howard's gut, pooling in his belly button and dribbling down its curve onto the sheets.
Guy fell down onto Howard and kissed him, hard jawline bumping into soft. “You're incredible,” he panted. “I could order some pizzas maybe?”
A couple of hours later, three boxes sat on Howard's coffee table, while Howard stretched out on his sofa with one hand down his boxers and one hand cradling his stretched gut. He'd done his best to show off for Guy, and had eaten almost two whole pizzas in quick succession. “Go on,” he told Guy. “Eat up.”
Guy groaned, clutching his flat stomach. He'd just finished a whole pizza by himself - clearly not a feat he was used to. “They're your slices,” he said feebly, nudging the two final slices of Howard's second pizza back to the larger man.
“I want you to have them,” Howard said, pushing them back. “And I think you want to have them too.” Guy shook his head. “You're telling me,” Howard grabbed Guy’s hand and placed it on his gut. “That you don't want one of these of your own?” Guy moaned a little. “That you just want to fuck fat guys? No. You want this for yourself. Eat.”
Guy closed his eyes, inhaled and exhaled slowly and deeply, and sat forward, grabbing both slices and stacking them together before taking a large bite out of both. “That's it,” Howard whispered. “Good boy. Eat them quick, before your body has a chance to register. Good boy, there we go.”
It took fifteen minutes, and by the end Guy was clearly uncomfortable, rubbing his stomach and suppressing sickly hiccups, but eventually the slices disappeared. He sat quietly, moaning and cradling the invisible curve of his stomach. Once it became clear that he wasn't in a position for conversation, Howard put the TV on and left him to it.
“I should go,” Guy said quietly after two episodes of Doctor Who. He stood and began to pull his t-shirt back on.
“You don't have to,” Howard said, making no move to stop him. “You could stay the night, if you wanted.”
“No, it's late,” Guy said. “I was supposed to meet up with some friends.” He winced as he buttoned his jeans. “Maybe we could do this again sometime though?”
Howard sighed. He never really did ‘again’. “Maybe,” he said. “I uh, I'm only in Portsmouth for a few months for a work thing, I probably won't be uhh…”
“No, it's fine, I get it,” Guy said with a thin smile. “It's fine if this is just a one-time thing. Thanks for umm,” he looked over Howard's body, still laid out across the sofa, his gut overlapping his too-tight pants. “You've helped me figure some stuff out. Thank you.”
Howard heaved himself to his feet and stuck his hand out. “Always happy to figure some stuff out with someone,” he said. Guy took Howard's offered hand and shook it. “All the best Guy.”
“You too.”
The door closed and Howard collapsed back down onto the sofa. 
-
Howard groaned as he lowered himself into the seat, grateful for the easing of the pressure on his feet. He closed his eyes and just sat for a moment, breathing just a little too heavily for his liking. Ever since he'd crossed the 300 pound mark almost a decade ago, he'd been eagerly eyeing up 350, but he was starting to worry that it might have been just a little too much weight for him. He was just so big these days, and at more than a little ways past forty, he was starting to think that the big leagues, weight-wise, were a young man's game.
He opened his eyes slowly and reached towards the menu. No need to go hungry, anyway, whether or not he wanted to get much bigger, especially with his company footing the bill. A couple of starters, he thought, a big main, maybe one of those steaks, and then some big heavy dessert. That should just about hit the spot. He squeezed his overhang just a touch and sighed. Sitting down, with the dull ache in his feet fading away and his breathing going back to its usual light wheeze, rather than a heavy pant, he started to forget his earlier apprehension, just a few moments before. Being big felt fucking great, didn't it? What difference would another ten or fifteen pounds make, really?
His thoughts were interrupted by a shadow falling across his menu, and he looked up, expecting to see the waiter. What he saw instead was a wall of flesh - a man stood in front of him, outweighing Howard by, god, who knew how much? At least a hundred pounds, maybe even one-fifty. The man's soft gut hung down, almost touching the table, and his arms sat awkwardly at his sides, visibly pushed away from the man's huge, soft torso by gut and tit and roll. He looked like something out of one of Howard's fantasies, a scale he'd fervently imagined himself at, but never really aspired to.
"Howard?" the man asked. "It is Howard isn't it?"
Howard was stumped. He'd remember this man if they'd met, surely? Fantasised about him for weeks afterwards presumably, wistfully thinking back to that human barge he'd met in some business meeting or other?
"I'm so sorry," he said after a while. "I'm really trying to remember…"
"It's Guy," the man - Guy - said. "We met about eleven or twelve years ago." When Howard's face didn't lose its confused stupor he added - "In Portsmouth? I, uhh, look a little different I suppose." He punctuated this last bit by laying his hand on top of his gut.
Howard thought back, he'd not spent long in Portsmouth after all, six months maybe. Had he met a Guy? He looked up at the round face in front of him, subtracted ten years, a couple of chins, tried to imagine cheek bones beneath those jowls, noticed the bent nose that looked like it had been set badly, years before…
"Jesus fuck, Guy, " Howard said softly, his eyes widening. "Twink Guy?" he asked, his voice high. This whale in front of him couldn't have ever been that small fry, could he?
Guy laughed. "Twink Guy, I like that!" he said. "Can't say there's been much call for a nickname like that for a while now though." He smiled at Howard. "Are you waiting for someone? Maybe I could join you?"
Howard made a blustering noise that could be interpreted as a positive, and gestured at the seat opposite him. Guy pulled the chair back, far away from the table edge, and slowly, carefully, deliberately lowered himself down into it. Howard marveled at the practiced routine of it all - how far back the chair needed to go, the care with which the sturdy oak chair needed handling, the way that every movement was slow and deliberate and carefully considered to avoid bumping into anything, everything, around him. Most of all he marveled at how Guy barely seemed to register that any of this was out of the ordinary.
"God, it's good to get off your feet, isn't it," Guy sighed.
Howard studied Guy, trying to remember the rail thin twenty-something year old underneath the blubber. His face was huge, round cheeks bulging over sagging jowls around squinting eyes. His body was enormously broad - tits sloped down a mountainous gut down into his elbows. Even his fingers were fat - stubby little sausages attached to pillow palms.
Guy reached over his belly and picked up the menu, resting it on the shelf of his gut. “Shall we just get one of each of the starters and sides and share?” he asked after a while.
Howard’s eyebrows rose. He looked back at the menu - there was at least ten starters and the same amount of sides. How much was this man planning on eating?
“I'll foot the bill, don't worry” Guy said, misinterpreting Howard's reaction. “The least I can do.” He slapped the top of his gut, setting it swaying. “After all, I've got you to thank for this.”
Howard’s mouth closed and opened a few times. “Sorry, I'm not sure I… You've got me to thank?”
“Oh absolutely!” Guy said, nodding. His double chin shook with the motion.
At that point the waiter arrived, interrupting Guy. They both ordered a pint of ale, Guy ordered all the starters and sides, as he'd said, and Howard ordered the steak.
“God, that sounds good actually. Two of those. Medium-rare, yeah. And we’ll want the dessert menu after. Perfect, yeah, thanks.” Guy turned back to Howard. “Where were we? Yes! Thanking you, that was it.” He leant back, and Howard could see his shirt pulling out of his waistband to reveal a slab of pale flesh hanging out even while sitting. “After we, you know, after that night anyway, I just sort of knew I guess.”
“Knew what?” Howard asked.
“That I wanted to be fat!” Guy said loudly. Howard sank down in his seat as people at other tables looked over. “I mean, I knew before then, I guess, but it was all, I don't know, wanking over YouTube videos and those stupid stories about people getting paid to fatten themselves up or something. I never, god, I never imagined I could really do something like that.”
Their drinks arrived and the two were quiet for a while as they took their first large gulps. “And then you met me,” Howard offered.
“And then I met you!” Guy repeated. “God, the number of fat guys I must have stared at before you.” He laughed. “I thought I was being so subtle, but clearly you noticed pretty quick.”
Howard laughed as well. “Yeah, subtle didn't really come to mind,” he said. “I thought you were cruising, honestly. You were actually doing that to any fat guy you saw? Just, down the street?”
“Christ yes,” Guy laughed. “They must have all thought I was a creep.”
At that point, the first of the starters arrived. Guy fell quiet as he focussed on eating. Howard could see how he's gotten so large - eating was clearly serious business to this man. Each bite was relished, with time taken to enjoy the flavours, but no time was wasted - as soon as one bite was swallowed, more food would immediately be brought to his lips.
After the starters and while they waited for their mains, Guy spoke. “You know, I always imagined how much weight you were putting on,” he told Howard. “And I always sort of, I don't know, compared myself to the image of you I had in my head. Especially once I reached three hundred pounds, and I was so much softer than I remember you being, and then when I hit three-hundred and fifty, four hundred, and I thought, god, when did he hit these weights? How much bigger did he get? And I started to imagine, you know, we'd meet at some point and I'd have managed to get, I don't know, ten, twenty pounds bigger. And it'd be, god this is so stupid saying it out loud, like you'd passed the torch on or something. Honestly, it's a big reason I've been pushing myself to still get bigger and bigger.”
“Sorry to be a disappointment,” Howard said, rubbing his gut. He'd done his best to eat half of the food on the table, and while not full, he could feel himself slowing down; in comparison, Guy seemed to be impatiently waiting for more food. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so small.
“God, no!” Guy said. “I don’t mean, no, I'm not disappointed or anything. I do know, you know, that I've kind of taken this whole gaining thing further than most people are into. I never really, honestly I mean, thought I'd meet you again or whatever. It was always just something knocking around in the back of my head. I didn't even really know that you were a gainer, you might have lost it all for all I- fuck, sorry, I don't even- are you even a gainer? I just assumed.”
Howard waved his hand. “Don't worry, yeah, I… well. I mean, fifty pounds in ten years, it's hardly the kind of weight you've been putting on. But yeah, I'm on all the sites and stuff.”
“Hey, anyone else would be pulling their hair out over fifty pounds,” Guy said. “Us guys just have a skewed perspective about this stuff.”
Howard shrugged. “I guess. Sometimes I feel like I'm not making progress and sometimes I really look at myself and see just how big I am.”
“How big are you, if you don't mind me asking?” Guy asked.
“Three-sixty-something these days,” Howard said. “Probably a little more - lots of business trips. And you?”
“Just hit five hundred a couple of weeks ago,” Guy replied proudly. “Hit a bit of a plateau since, but it's great finally getting there, you know?”
Howard gave a low whistle. “That's a big boy number right there.” Guy laughed. “You're going for those kinds of weights then? Five-hundred plus?”
Guy grinned and nodded his head enthusiastically. “It's all I think about,” he said. “The more weight I put on, the more I want to put on. It's like, okay, when we first met that time, right? I got all excited and I decided I could put on, I don't know, twenty pounds, see how that felt. And it was nothing. So I thought, okay, fifty pounds, and then I'd put on fifty pounds and I was starting to feel chubby but…”
“It wasn't as big as you'd thought it would be?” Howard asked.
“God, not nearly anything like it,” Guy agreed. “Like, fifty pounds you know? That's a lot of weight! And it just didn't look like it. So I went up to two-hundred and fifty, and that wasn't enough, then three hundred, and I thought, surely, surely three hundred’s where you start to feel big. And that's how big you were! I fucked other big guys, don't get me wrong, but you were the first - I built you up into a bit of myth in my head I think.”
“I'm flattered,” Howard said.
“Well, I got to three-hundred pounds, as big as Howard, and it still wasn't big enough,” Guy continued. “So I added another fifty, and that wasn't enough, and another, and four-hundred still didn't feel big enough.” He sighed. “You never feel like that?”
Howard spread his hands on the table and studied them for a while. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “Not often. I do feel big, most of the time. Big enough. But every so often I catch a glimpse of myself and I just think… is this really twenty-five stone? Surely I should be huge by now? When I was younger I couldn't imagine how big that must be and now…”
“Now it's just the size you are,” Guy finished. “It's normal.”
Howard nodded as their mains got brought over. Howard tried to hide his nervousness at the size of the portion; chips were piled high next to a steak as big as his face and over an inch thick. Guy licked his lips and started eating immediately, stopping only when the sides got brought over.
It took nearly two hours for Howard to get through his steak, sides and the selection of desserts Guy had ordered. Guy watched him, having finished long before, occasionally offering words of encouragement, but generally just filling Howard in on his life; the company he'd started, the relationships with increasingly larger men who were just never big enough, the years and years of gluttony and sloth that had built him into the man Howard saw before him.
Howard leant back and drummed his fingers on his gut. It has been a while since he'd felt it so taut, and the sensation left him rock hard. He opened one eye and watched Guy for a while.
“I've got a room upstairs,” Howard said after a while. “If you wanted to…?”
Guy smiled. “I thought you said you were married now.”
“We’re open,” Howard reassured him. “I spend a lot of time away with work and we both know that we’ll be better off if we get to relieve some tension every so often.”
“Well then,” Guy said with raised eyebrows. “Shall we?”
They both stood, Howard feeling particularly spritely for the first time in a while; he found himself waiting for Guy to haul himself to his feet. The two made their way slowly to the elevator, which sunk noticeably as the two men entered.
As the doors closed, Guy reached over and put a hand on Howard's love handle and squeezed. “Just like I remember,” he said with a smile.
“Hopefully a little bigger?” Howard said.
“Don't worry,” Guy said. “I can see all the progress you've made. But it's that same solid ball gut I've been having wet dreams about for the past decade.” He slapped it a few times, resulting in a dull thump. He slid a finger through a gap between the buttons in Howard’s shirt and stroked the furry skin around his belly button.
The elevator door opened, and the two made their way to Howard's hotel room. Howard let them in and Guy made his slow way over to the bed and gingerly sat down. Howard stood in front of him and let his gut bump into Guy's face, who reached up and began to unbutton Howard's shirt for him.
“Oh yes,” Guy said. “I've missed this a lot.” He ran his fingers through the hair on Howard's gut and up onto his soft chest as Howard pulled off his jacket and shirt and threw them to the side. Guy leant forward and nuzzled his nose into Howard's belly button, before replacing it with his tongue as he worked his fingers under Howard's overhang to undo his belt and pull his trousers down.
Guy lifted Howard's gut slightly, and deftly pushed the fat back slightly to reveal more of his hardening cock. “This is bigger than I remember,” he said.
“My cock?” Howard asked. “Really?”
Guy laughed. “Sorry, no. I meant your fat pad.”
“Ah,” Howard said. “Suppose that would be a bit too much to ask for.”
“I personally have come to enjoy the effects of fat on a man's cock,” Guy said.
“Not one I'm particularly thrilled with myself,” Howard grumbled.
“Well maybe I can make it up to you,” Guy said, before slipping his mouth over Howard's dick.
Howard's breath caught. The key to giving a good blowjob, Howard had learnt over the years, is to really, truly, genuinely want that dick in your mouth, and Guy was clearly hungry for it. No opportunity was missed to taste or lick or suck on any and all exposed skin. His balls, his shaft, his head, his taint, all of it was lovingly cared for in turn. It wasn't long before Howard was shooting down Guy's throat.
Guy sat back and smiled as he swallowed. Howard thought back to how prominent his Adam’s apple used to be - it was now barely visible in his lardy neck.
Howard sank down to his knees, and lifted Guy’s gut to gain access to his belt buckle. As he undid his trousers, Guy pulled his shirt up and over his head, revealing soft, undulating flesh. Together, the two slowly managed to peel Guy’s clothes off of his body until he was sat in only his socks.
Howard once more lifted Guy’s gut and pushed back at the soft fat filling his crotch, unveiling the nub of his cock. He leant forward to lick the exposed head, but quickly had to pull back as his face became enveloped with fat from above.
“You don't have to,” Guy said. “I know that it's not easy to-”
“Lean back,” Howard said, pushing back on Guy’s torso. “And hold your belly.”
Guy obeyed, laying down on the bed so that his flab cascaded back towards his face. Howard pushed down on his fat pad, revealing another inch or so of cock. As Howard took it into his mouth, licking its meager length and the small scrotum, he thought back to the long cock Guy had the last time they'd met, now swallowed on thick fat.
Howard inhaled deeply, taking in the sour musk of Guy’s crotch and continued to lap at the small length available to him. He began to pump the fat surrounding his cock, using it to jerk the length he couldn't see. The wall of fat above him began to shake and quiver, until sticky cum spurted out. Howard noted how sweet it tasted, and wondered if his own cum had gotten sweeter as he'd gotten fatter.
“That was great,” Guy said.
“Glad to be of service,” Howard replied.
Guy shuffled his weight back up the bed, setting the frame creaking and groaning. He patted the bed next to him. “I think I was big spoon last time.”
“I think you might have been,” Howard said. From this angle, Guy looked almost impossibly wide. His gut spilled out, pulled down and to the sides by gravity, so that he resembled a large pillow. Howard settled down next to him, teetering on the edge of the bed, and curled up to the large mass. “I don't think these beds are really built for men our size.”
“Not two of us, anyway,” Guy said. “I can go, if that's easier?”
Howard shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “We can stay a while.”
The two lay quietly for a while. Their heavy breathing filled the room.
“It's been a while,” Guy said after a while.
“What has?” Howard asked.
“Since I've been with anyone,” Guy clarified. “Once you reach a certain size, the mechanics all get a bit awkward.”
“How so?” Howard asked.
Guy sighed. “I can barely even reach my cock these days,” he admitted. “Bit of a faff for someone else to reach it, too. Generally guys just feed me these days, then deal with themselves.”
“You okay with that?” Howard asked.
“Oh yeah,” Guy insisted. “Don't worry about me. Not much difference these days between eating and sex for me. But this was… this was nice.”
“You still like it then?” Howard asked. “Being big? Getting bigger?”
“God yes,” Guy beamed. “There's nothing like it. I can't imagine stopping. How about you? Happy to stop where you are?”
“You know, I might well be open to packing a little more on,” Howard said.
“You let me know if you're ever up to getting fed then, eh?” Guy said. “I saw you struggling with those kiddy portions. You’re going to need pushing if you want to get really big.”
“Is that so?” Howard asked, laughing. 
Guy struggled to sit up. “Absolutely,” he said. “I distinctly remember you pushing me to eat two extra slices of pizza beyond what I thought I could. That lesson stuck with me. It's time you learnt it too.” He hauled himself to the side of the bed and panted for a moment or two. “I'll leave you be. Can't have you hanging off the bed all night.”
“Leave your number?” Howard said.
Guy smiled. “Definitely,” he said. He looked down at the clothes strewn about on the floor. “I uh… don't suppose you'd pick up my clothes for me? Bending down’s a bit of an ordeal these days.”
Howard chuckled and helped Guy collect his clothes and put them on. “Let's make sure it's not another decade, eh?”
Guy smiled. “Of course,” he said and patted Howard's gut. “We've got to make sure to put some meat on these bones.”
The door closed and Howard collapsed back down onto the bed. 
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